


Writing Challenge

by masquerade97



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, spnwritingchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5674498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masquerade97/pseuds/masquerade97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of works done for the <a href="http://www.spnwritingchallenge.tumblr.com">spnwritingchallenge</a> on Tumblr. Each chapter is a different story with the prompt and relevant information in each chapter summary.</p><p>This used to be a series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Cas  
> In which Dean decides it's time to take a day to himself and Sam sends a certain someone after him.  
> August 2015; Prompt: hot tub

Vacation had never been Dean's strong suit, probably because he'd never really had one. But with everything going on, he felt he deserved a little time off. It had been a long day (week, year, decade) and he was going to relax, dammit. If the world was going to try to end  _again,_ it was going to have to wait at least a day before he made any attempt to fix it.

Luckily, the world didn't seem to be in any hurry to end. For once. Which was why Dean decided it was time to cash in his good karma and go hang out somewhere relaxing. Not that he didn't love the bunker and consider it to be his home, but there was too much around that reminded him of work and made him want to go looking for a case. If he stayed holed up there, he knew he'd end up looking for monsters to hunt.

He left early one morning, leaving a note for Sam to let him know he'd be back the next day.

Unfortunately there weren't many places nearby that would really constitute a 'vacation.' Deciding to settle for just a change of scenery and a lot of luxury, Dean pulled into the nicest hotel he could find and demanded the nicest room they had.

Most of the day Dean spent watching pay-per-view while relaxing in what was very likely the most comfortable bed he'd ever been in in his entire life. When he discovered the room-service menu, he had several slices of pie sent up.

The best part of the day came later, after he'd had a few drinks and happened to notice the pool behind the hotel. He wasn't really one for swimming, but his gaze drifted to the Jacuzzi that he could just make out under a canopy. Now  _that_ was something he could go for.

When he'd found a set of swim trunks to wear, he made his way downstairs. He was glad to find no one else out here; he didn't usually mind people  _too_ much, but vacation was about him getting to chill by himself. The hot tub was just a plus.

Dean was startled awake sometime after the sun had vanished beneath the horizon to someone saying his name. He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been asleep, but unconscious was a state he enjoyed being in. Especially in a hot tub on his pseudo-vacation.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," a familiar voice said.

Dean looked up at the Angel, ignoring the apology. "What do you want Cas? Did something happen?" he asked. Then something else occurred to him. "How did you find me?"

A confused look crossed Cas' face. "Sam sent me. He said you were in trouble."

Dean stared blankly up at Cas for a moment, his sleep-muddled mind trying to make sense of the situation. "Sam? Sent you?"

Cas nodded, his face still puzzled. "He said you were gone this morning and he hadn't heard from you all day. He seemed worried when I spoke to him. He tracked your phone and sent me here."

"I left a note for him," Dean said slowly, a realization coming to him. There was no way in Hell Sam hadn't seen the note he had left. And Sam hadn't even bothered to call all day, so he  _knew_ Dean was fine. "Dammit Sam."

"What is it?" Cas asked.

Dean looked down at the foaming water and pursed his lips. Ever since they'd stumbled upon  _Supernatural: The Musical_ , Sam had been at his throat over his relationship with Cas. To make matters worse, Sam had apparently  _read_ Chuck's books since then and thought a relationship between Dean and Cas made  _sense_. And he wasn't going to hear any of Dean's protests. Of course, Dean knew he was only protesting because he thought he could get away with hiding what he actually felt, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to go into it with Sam before he went into it with Cas.

"It's nothing Cas," Dean finally answered. "I'm fine. Sam just thinks he's funny."

"How is this funny?" Cas asked, his eyes narrowed and his head tilted to one side.

 _Not while I'm on_ vacation  _goddammit,_ Dean thought. "It has to do with a case we did a few months back. It's nothing," he said, waving off Cas' question as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again.

"Oh," Cas said, still not getting it.

After a few moments passed in awkward silence, Dean sighed and sat up, opening his eyes. "Cas, do you want to stay?" he asked. Realizing how that must have sounded, he quickly added, "I mean, it's late, and it's a long drive back." Well, that didn't sound much better, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Cas was studying Dean with of those looks that made Dean squirm and also not want Cas to look away. It was very confusing and Dean wished the Angel would just say something.

"I can stay," Cas said cautiously. "If you want me to."

 _Of course I want you to stay,_ Dean thought, and he managed to catch himself before he said it out loud. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind some company," was what he said instead.

A few minutes later, Cas was sitting at the edge of the Jacuzzi with his feet hanging in the water, having declined the offer to actually get in. Dean had talked him into ditching his shoes and socks, plus both his coats and his tie. With his pant legs and shirt sleeves rolled up, he actually looked casual.

"Why are you out here?" Cas asked, his tone curious.

Dean shrugged, feeling like there might be a hidden accusation somewhere under the question. "I took a day to myself," he said simply. "A sort of mini-vacation. Just to be alone for a while."

"Oh," Cas said, shifting uncomfortably. "Then maybe I should..." He trailed off and started to push himself to his feet.

Before Dean could stop himself, he had a hand on Cas' knee to prevent him from getting up. He felt his face heat up slightly when Cas' gaze went from Dean's hand to his face in surprise. "Stay, Cas."

Cas settled back down, watching Dean in that intense way he had. "Why did Sam send me here?" he asked.

Dean settled back to his seat and did his best to not look uncomfortable, though he was sure he was failing. "Just, something he thinks is funny. Don't worry about it."

"Dean," Cas said, clearly not accepting Dean's dodges. "You said it was about a case?"

Dean shifted awkwardly. "Yeah. We ran into a school doing a musical based on Chuck's  _Supernatural_ books." He paused, risking a glance at Cas, who only looked intrigued. "They, uh, the girl who wrote it, Marie, she read into it. A lot."

"What does this have to do with Sam sending me here?"

Dean took a deep breath. He might as well just say it. "Marie thought there was, a lot of, uh,  _subtext_. Between us."

"Us?" Cas asked, looking puzzled again. "Us as in, you and I?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "And so Sam  _had_ to go read the books."

There was a pause when Dean didn't continue. "And?" Cas probed.

"And, well," Dean paused again, briefly debating the merits of holding his breath under water until he passed out. "Sam, he kind of...  _Agrees_ with Marie's interpretation. Of us. And he won't shut the hell up about it."

"Interesting," Cas said, seeming to ponder this. "So Sam sent me here..."

"Because he knew I was alone and he probably thought it would be funny," Dean said in a rush. He kept his eyes firmly on the water swirling around him.

Another few moments passed in silence before Cas spoke up again. "What about you Dean?" he asked carefully. "What do you think of Marie's interpretation?"

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. He must have looked a little green too, because Cas shifted so he was sitting a little closer and not facing Dean head-on as he had been.

"I think it's fascinating, how humans interpret things differently," Cas said thoughtfully, seeming to understand that Dean wasn't going to put in his two cents. "You all see events and interactions differently. And you can justify them. And your interpretation can make sense, whether or not it's true or correct."

"Are you talking about people in general? Or are you talking about Marie?" Dean asked, still not looking up at Cas.

"Both."

Dean could feel Cas' eyes on him, but he didn't budge. "Are you saying it makes sense, or are you saying it's true?" Dean's heart was hammering in his chest, making him feel as if it would break free at any moment.

"Whether it makes sense or not is open to interpretation," Cas said, and Dean could  _hear_ the smirk in his voice. "As for whether it's true? I think my feelings would have to be reciprocated for that to happen."

Stunned, Dean turned to look at Cas, not caring now that his heart was trying to break his rib cage. The Angel's bright blue eyes were watching him uncertainly, as if he were afraid he'd said something wrong, but not so afraid that he was actually ashamed to have said it.

"What do you think of Marie's interpretation?" Cas asked. He asked it simply, as if he were asking if Dean thought it would rain later.

"I, um, think her idea- that is," Dean started, the words stumbling over his tongue. He couldn't seem to get his brain and his voice to work at the same pace. "I- I think," he started again, speaking slower and more carefully this time, "I think she might have been right." The smile Cas gave him was small, as they usually were, but Dean swore it lit up the Angel's face like a kid's on Christmas morning.

Cas edged closer to Dean until he was sitting next to him, though still on the edge of the hot tub with his feet hanging in. He reached out and touched Dean's shoulder, tentatively, as if he were afraid Dean would run from him.

Dean watched Cas for a moment, feeling his pulse in his throat as he cautiously reached his hand up to take hold of Cas' arm. He tugged on Cas' arm, signaling that he wanted to actually be  _next to_ him, not on two different levels.

Nodding, Cas lowered himself into the hot water, not caring that he was still wearing his shirt and slacks. He settled into a comfortable position that allowed him to be both angled toward Dean and close enough that their legs brushed against each other in the current of the bubbling water. He reached out and took one of Dean's hands in both of his, though he wasn't sure why.

"Cas?" Dean asked, his voice rough. His breath hitched when Cas looked up at him, the Angel's face so raw and open and  _vulnerable._ "Would you kiss me?"

Cas smiled then, bright and happy. "Of course Dean," he said softly, closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to the hunter's.

Dean wasn't sure how long they sat there, kissing and talking with their limbs tangled together. However, he  _was_ sure of at least two things. The first was that he would never hear the end of this from Sam. The second was that he needed to do this vacation thing a lot more often, and preferably with Cas.


	2. Stanford Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam/Jess  
> Sam is drowning in his studies for the LSAT and Jess demands he take a break.  
> September 2015; Prompt: student

Stanford wasn't easy by anyone's definition, but Sam didn't regret for a second his decision to attend law school. Not only was he away from all that hunting monster nonsense his dad was always trying to get him excited about, he was still going to be helping people. And this time it would be legally, and on his terms. The only problem was there was a lot of studying to do. In fact, he had been studying so long today that his vision was starting to blur. He tried to force through it, but when the words on the page started to swim he sat up and rubbed his eyes for a moment, looking out the window to try to refocus.

After a moment of staring aimlessly at his less-than-stellar view, Sam shook his head and turned back to his book, his brows knit in concentration as he scanned the passage in front of him.

"You're _still_  studying?" came a voice from the doorway.

Sam started at the sound, having been so engrossed in his work that he hadn't heard the door open. He turned his seat and his mouth quirked into a half-smile when he recognized Jess. "Yeah, I am," he said.

"You've been at it for days, and the test isn't for another week. Why don't you take a night off?" Jess asked, setting her bag down on the bed.

"I can't Jess," Sam said as she crossed the room to him. "This is the LSAT we're talking about. I need to pass it."

"And you will," Jess said, settling herself onto Sam's lap. "You're the smartest guy I know. You won't have a problem with that test."

Sam smiled in spite of himself, winding his arms around his girlfriend's waist, knowing that he should instead be asking her to leave so he could study. "You think so?"

"Of course I think so!" Jess wound her arms around Sam's neck and pressed her forehead to his. "Sam, you're always so serious about school. And I love that about you, but you can afford to take a night off."

Sam considered this for a moment. He knew he had the information pretty much solidly ingrained in his skull, and any part of it he didn't have memorized wasn't that difficult for him to reason out with the information he did have. Of course, the only reason he was worried about not passing it was that he knew he had to stay on track if he was going to get away from all the monster hunting he'd been raised to do. Hunting wasn't a life he wanted: credit card scams, crummy motel rooms, fake IDs. What kind of life was that? If his dad and Dean wanted it, fine. More power to them. But Sam would be damned if he'd go back to it now that he'd found a niche at Stanford, with Jess and his friends.

Jess must have found Sam's hesitation to answer encouraging, because she stood and took his hand. "Come on. You're getting out of this room for a night."

"No, come on Jess," Sam protested, but only half-heartedly. He was grinned at her when she turned and pursed her lips at him, trying to hold in a grin of her own.

"No Sam,  _you_ come on," she teased, pulling at his arm as she led him downstairs.

Sam rolled his eyes as he was tugged along, trying - and partially failing - to keep an annoyed smirk in place. "Fine, you got me out of the room," Sam said when they were outside. He tried to sound miffed, but he wasn't exactly a convincing actor. "Now where are we going?"

"I don't know," Jess said with a smile, starting aimlessly down the sidewalk.

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a smile plastered on his face as he started after her.

They walked hand-in-hand, passing their usual haunts. There was the little cafe where they spent time studying with their friends between classes or when the library closed and kicked them out. Jess walked in aimlessly and pretended to study the menu before getting her usual coffee. Sam declined to get a drink, wondering how long they were going to be out and about so he could get back to his studying.

Drink in hand, Jess led Sam back outside, sipping idly as they walked, passing more and more of their regular getaways; they passed the bar where they could be found most Saturday nights; they passed the turn they took to get to class; they passed several turn-offs for friends' houses.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked after a few minutes of walking, hoping for some kind of answer this time.

"I'm not sure," Jess said, looking up at him with a playful grin.

Sam shook his head and pulled Jess against his side. She wrapped her arms around his waist for a moment before taking a slight step to the side and holding his hand in hers.

As they continued walking, Sam recognized other landmarks: the theater where Jess had dragged him that one time when Phantom Of The Opera was playing and she insisted they go see it (and, though he tried to deny it, he actually quite enjoyed the show); the nice restaurant where he'd taken her for dinner on their anniversary; a used-book store Sam seemed to find Jess wandering around in at least once every other week.

"Still don't know where we're going?" Sam asked, swigging his arm in such a way that Jess was pulled closer to him and he could put his arm around her, making her laugh.

"No, I think I have an idea," Jess said, downing the rest of her drink and throwing the cup in a nearby trash bin before jogging down a side street with a grinning Sam in tow. She stopped when they reached a park. It wasn't very big, but it was quiet, with shaded benches and bright flower beds. She surveyed the area as if looking for flaws in its serene facade. Seeming satisfied with her surroundings, she turned to Sam with a soft smile. "Here."

"Alright, here," Sam replied, returning her smile.

They sat on the grass in the shade of a tree for a while, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky, the breeze whip a few stray leaves into the air, the sun start to set over the city. They talked about everything and nothing, the future and the past. Jess masterfully kept the conversation away from anything related to school, because she knew he was taking the LSAT  _way_ too seriously, and also away from family, because she knew that topic had a tendency to upset him.

The sun's edge was just about to touch the first buildings when Sam sighed and said, "Jess, I really need to get back to studying." Even he could hear the lack of conviction behind his words.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Jess teased, poking Sam in the side as she leaned against him.

"I know," Sam said, a smile coloring his voice as he wrapped his arms around her. He had known the moment she walked in the door that afternoon that he wouldn't be studying for the rest of the day. He looked down at her fondly, taking in every detail, from the way her hair framed her face to the way the light from the dying sun set her eyes to dancing. "What would I do without you?"

Jess looked up at Sam, meeting his gaze. "Crash and burn," she said with a shrug and a quirk of her eyebrows. Neither of them knew how that had started, but the turn of phrase had been going on for quite some time, and they often spoke the question and response more often than they said the words "I love you."

"Yeah, I probably would," Sam agreed in a quiet voice. He kissed her once before resting his forehead against hers. They sat like that for a long time, holding each other and leaning against each other. And everything else be damned, Sam could have sat like this for the rest of eternity and not minded at all.


	3. Superstition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Cas  
> Superstition is a character trait not often found in hunters, but Dean's been superstitious since his bout of ghost sickness.  
> October 2015; Prompt: superstition

A hunter should be the least superstitious kind of person in the world.

Dean _knows_ ghosts are real. He knows how to get rid of them. He knows that spilling salt isn’t the end of the world, and he’s spilled quite a bit, so throwing it over his left shoulder to scare off the devil isn’t something he’s worried about. He knows the ins and outs of a haunting. He doesn’t believe in luck.

Or that’s what he tells himself, because ever since that damn ghost sickness got inside his head, he’s been on edge.

All those mirrors they’d broken when they’d been hunting Bloody Mary lurked in the back of his mind, and he wondered how many more years he’d have to suffer for it. Did his time in Hell count?

Even though he thought it was ridiculous, he avoided cracks in the sidewalk. His mother couldn’t be hurt, but once he’d heard kids saying “brother’s” instead of “mother’s” and he’d been paranoid ever since.

If a case took them to the thirteenth floor of a building, Dean took several gulps from his flask before going up, and several more after coming down again.

If they ended up investigating some millionaire’s boat and someone mentioned the Titanic, Dean would fight to keep his face blank.

Vengeful spirits liked to hang around construction sites, and the abundance of ladders did nothing to help Dean solve the case when he had to watch where he was walking.

Black cats made him uneasy, and he did his best to avoid them, though this was significantly easier than most other things simply because he avoided all cats.

After so many years, he’d thought the ghost sickness would have left him entirely. After Hell and being a damn Demon he’d thought it would wear off. No such luck. Never such luck.

Dean didn’t think Sam noticed, but he did. He’d once found a penny face down and had picked it up anyway, and at Dean’s panicked look he’d given it away. _An unlucky penny given away will bring the recipient good luck._ He never mentioned it when Dean wanted to stay in on Friday the thirteenth. He found it a little annoying, but he figured Dean had enough going on that he didn’t need to have someone criticizing him for being a little touchy about certain things.

Naturally, Halloween came with certain disadvantages.

Sure, Dean dealt with ghosts and witches and fairies during the rest of the year, but Halloween came with its own set of lore.

This Halloween, Dean and Cas were on their own investigating while Sam was at the morgue. The kids running around in their costumes didn’t seem to mind that they were inches away from plowing into everyone else on the sidewalk, and once or twice Dean felt a bag laden with candy smack into his leg as a ghost or a cowboy flew past him.

“Someone put them on a leash or something,” Dean said when two girls dressed as superheroes skipped past them, giggling.

Cas glanced over at Dean. The hunter seemed to have been on edge all night, though there wasn’t much to be worried about. This case wasn’t anything new. “Are you alright Dean?”

“What?” Dean asked, glancing back at the fallen angel. He tried to maintain an air of confidence. “Of course I’m alright.”

“No you aren’t.”

“I’m fine Cas,” Dean said, stepping off the path briefly to let a woman pushing a stroller pass him. When he stepped back to Cas’ side, he noticed the other man giving him a skeptical look. “I’m _fine._ People need to keep their kids under control, that’s all.” He could tell Cas didn’t think that was all, but he was determined to keep up his charade.

When they arrived at the house where the body had been found, a man came to the door. “No candy,” he said when he opened the door. Then his face grew confused and he added, “Aren’t you a little old to be trick-or-treating?”

“Yes we are,” Dean said, holding up his badge. Cas did the same. “Here to ask you a few questions.”

“Got a warrant?” the man asked.

“Sorry?” Dean asked, taken off guard. He preferred it when people just let him in.

“No warrant, no questions,” the man said, closing the door again.

“Strange,” Cas said to the door.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Dean said, flipping his badge in his hand and smacking his palm with it. “You’d think he’d have respect for the badges.”

“Not that,” Cas said, tilting his head curiously. “There was a bat in the house.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably, suddenly struck by the urge to leave. “Lots of people decorate with bats,” he said. “That’s not strange.”

“It wasn’t a plastic bat.” Cas’ voice was thoughtful.

_Shit._ Dean knocked on the door again.

“What’re you doing?” Cas asked. He’d been turning to go, but stopped when he heard the knob turn.

“I thought I told you to beat it,” the man said when he got back to the door.

“Any cold spots in that house?” Dean asked. “Things moving for no reason? Weird noises?”

“Who the hell are you?” the man at the door demanded.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dean said. “Would you mind making this quick and telling me if the rumors about the history of this house are true?”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m the one who’s going to save your ass if you’ll give me a damn chance,” Dean replied. He was trying to keep his voice calm, but this guy’s lack of cooperation was getting to him. “You know something killed your husband and I’m here to kill it, now answer the question.”

“Dean,” Cas said, putting a hand on the hunter’s shoulder.

“Yes,” the man said quietly. “It’s true, okay?” He closed the door again.

Dean shook his head, pulling his phone out and dialing Sam’s number as he walked down the driveway, Cas close behind.

“You were right,” he said when his brother answered the phone. “We’ll meet you in the cemetery in fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sam said.

“Dean,” Cas started.

“C’mon Cas,” Dean said walking down the road to where the Impala was parked at the curb.

“What did the bat have to do with anything?” Cas persisted when they were seated and the engine roared to life.

“An old story. A superstition,” Dean answered, his eyes focused straight ahead.

“Involving a bat?”

“We’re in a hurry.”

“What does the bat mean, Dean?”

Dean sighed. “There’s a story that says that if a bat flies into a house there are ghosts around, and the ghost might have let it in.”

“So the ghost was in the house?” Cas asked.

“Yeah. Well, probably.” Dean wished people would keep their kids out of the streets; it was way too hard to get to the cemetery with any kind of speed with all these kids and their full candy bags darting in and out of traffic.

“And we left him there? Alone?”

“It’s Halloween, Cas. He’s fine. The ghost will leave him alone until midnight. So we need to burn the son of a bitch within two hours,” Dean said, checking the time. He gunned the engine when he was finally clear of the kids and they traveled the rest of the way to the cemetery in silence.

~*~*~*~*~

Dean had gone back to the Impala as soon as the body went up in flames, not comfortable with being so close to the dead on Halloween.

“Is he okay?” Cas asked Sam as he watched Dean’s retreating back.

Sam glanced up from the flames to follow Cas’ gaze. “Yeah, he’ll be fine,” he said.

“He seems…upset.”

“It’s the day,” Sam said with a shrug. “He’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Why the day?” Cas asked, looking back up at Sam.

“He gets superstitious,” Sam explained. “Sometimes he’s worked up about things that are seen as good or bad luck.”

“Is that healthy?”

Sam shrugged. “He copes. He’s better than he used to be,” he said. “One thing at a time.”

Cas considered this for a moment before walking over to join Dean at the car.

Dean was staring at the road just fifty feet in front of him. Cas couldn’t tell what he was looking at until he was right next to the car.

A black cat stared up at him with piercing yellow eyes. It was watching them curiously with its tail wrapped around its paws.

“Is there a reason you’re staring at the cat?” Cas asked.

“Black cats crossing your path are bad luck,” Dean answered before he could stop himself.

Cas tilted his head to the side, considering the cat in front of him. “Black cats are good luck in several places,” he said.

“What?” Dean asked, turning to Cas in surprise. “Where?”

“Japan, Britain, Scotland,” Cas said, meeting Dean’s eyes. “They are bringers of prosperity, not evil.”

Dean turned back to the cat. He still looked uneasy, but Cas thought he looked a little less paranoid.

~*~*~*~*~

“C’mon, make a wish,” Dean said, holding out the wishbone to Cas.

“I wish you would put the bone down so we could eat,” Cas said dryly, his eyes not dropping from Dean’s.

“You know what I mean,” Dean said, not moving his hand. “You make a wish, I make a wish, we pull the wishbone apart and whoever ends up with the bigger piece has their wish come true.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean suspiciously. What was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t sure, but he knew Dean liked to mess with him. He looked over to Sam for help, but Sam just snorted a laugh at him. “Make a wish Cas,” he mimicked.

Clearly Sam was not going to be any help.

They were seated around the dining table in the bunker around Thanksgiving, and they had decided on taking a break to treat themselves to an actual dinner for once. Dean wasn’t much better than he had been, but he was playing off the superstitions as jokes and at least mentioning them in open conversation, so that was something.

Unfortunately, he had decided he thought it was funny to use them against Cas.

Like now.

“I’m not putting this down until you take half and make a wish,” Dean threatened.

Unfortunately, Cas could tell he was serious.

“Fine,” Cas said, wondering if it would be wrong to wish for Dean to not be an ass for _ten minutes._ He took his half of the wishbone and he and Dean pulled back at the same time.

Cas ended up with the larger half. Dean looked mildly disappointed.

“What’d you wish for?” Sam asked.

“I wished-“

“No no no,” Dean exclaimed. “Don’t say it out loud.”

“Why not?”

“It won’t come true if you say it out loud,” Dean said.

Cas studied Dean for a moment, trying to figure out if he was joking. Clearly he wasn’t.

“Why?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “I don’t know. But that’s what they say.”

“Alright, the wish has been saved,” Sam said. “Can we eat now?”

~*~*~*~*~

“Why is there so much decorating involved?” Cas asked. He was helping hang ornaments from a large evergreen tree in the bunker’s main room. Already there was garland looped around the railing on the staircase and lights strung haphazardly near the ceiling in the library.

It had been Dean’s idea. Since December 1st he’d been bringing it up, and with only a week until Christmas, they’d finally gone out and gotten a tree. Dean had saved a few ornaments from when they were kids, but for the most part everything was new this year.

“Because we haven’t had a proper Christmas in years,” Dean replied. “So this year we’re going it right.”

“He did this a few years ago too,” Sam said from the other side of the tree. “We were in the middle of a hunt and he wouldn’t stop talking about having Christmas.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Dean complained. “I hadn’t seen you since you’d left for Stanford. Sue me for wanting to have a nice Christmas with my brother.”

They decorated in silence for a few minutes before Cas asked, “Why this year?”

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. “What do you mean?” Dean asked.

“You’ve never mentioned wanting to do Christmas before. Why now?”

Dean shrugged. “You’re human, and you’re here with us for good. We’re a family, right?”

“Of course.”

“So we might as well make our first Christmas together a good one.”

Cas paused in his decorating and looked over at Dean. He wasn’t sure what to make of the hunter these days. He seemed calmer, happier. Doing the occasional case didn’t seem to bother him. He was more at ease in his waking hours, though Cas could tell he had nightmares from all the years he’d spent hunting monsters.

“Alright Dean,” he said, hanging an angel shaped ornament from the tree.

When the tree was finished, Sam went on a grocery run. Dean had wanted to go too, to make sure Sam didn’t forget anything _essential_ , but Sam insisted on going alone, claiming he didn’t want to hear every Christmas carol that existed during the drive.

“What else is there to do?” Cas asked as he surveyed the work they’d already done.

Dean considered this a moment before going to one of the bunker’s closets and pulling a small box out. “You mind helping me hang this?” he asked.

So Cas grabbed a stool and they stood in the doorway to the library. Dean held the small plant gingerly as he attached the hook and hung it from the doorframe.

“Is that…mistletoe?” Cas asked as Dean climbed down.

“Sure is,” Dean replied, glancing up at the plant before looking back at Cas.

“Isn’t there…? I mean, people under one of those…” Cas trailed off, unsure of whether Dean meant what he had implied.

“Sure do,” Dean said, one side of his mouth quirking up.

Cas smiled back at Dean. “You did this on purpose,” he said, but his voice wasn’t accusing.

Dean ducked his head for a moment, but he noticed that Cas hadn’t moved from where he was standing.

“You know,” Dean said when he met Cas’ gaze again, taking a half step forward, “they say that refusing a kiss under mistletoe brings bad luck.”

Cas chuckled and leaned forward slightly so his face was only an inch from Dean’s. “All the more reason not to refuse.”


	4. Bonfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Cas (mentioned)  
> Gabriel's been back for a week, but that doesn't mean there aren't things to iron out.  
> Pinch-hit for October 2015; Prompt: bonfire

Gabriel had been staying at the bunker for almost a week, and there was still a kind of uneasy tension between the four of the bunker’s inhabitants.

Gabriel didn’t feel unwelcome in any way, but he could tell they didn’t entirely trust him.

Castiel was, of course, the most open toward him. Metatron might have used him as a kind of trick, but he had been able to let Cas know that he was still around. Besides, they were brothers, and there were certain things you forgave your brother for, though Cas seemed to have gotten over his immediate excitement and all was mostly normal between them again.

Dean was almost the complete opposite of Cas. He said he was glad Gabriel was back, and Gabriel thought he meant it to some extent. Unfortunately, with everything that was going on, he had an air of suspicion about him whenever he was in the same room as the Archangel. Sometimes Gabriel thought they were closer to friends, and sometimes he thought Dean was still holding a grudge about the whole killing-him-a-hundred-times thing.

But Sam… Gabriel wasn’t sure what Sam thought. Sam had been the one who opened the door to him, and he had seemed glad to see him. He had seemed as if he actually trusted the newly returned Archangel. Now, he seemed to have gone more to Dean’s view, holding the Angel at arm’s length as he tried to puzzle through what his motivations were.

_I want to be here,_ Gabriel wanted to shout. _I want to help. Let me help. I want to be with you._

The words never passed his lips.

Then there was the hunt where Sam and Dean went out by themselves. Gabriel was filled with restless energy, pacing incessantly and earning some kind of look from Cas that looked like a cross between concern and pity, and Gabriel was sure it was because the hunters were calling Cas for help instead of him. Gabriel wished his brother would look elsewhere, especially when Sam and Dean came back, broken and bloody and with a ruined car.

As soon as Sam and Dean limped in the door, Gabriel and Cas were out of the library and waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

Dean landed first, and Cas reached out for him hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” Dean said tiredly. “Go ahead.”

Cas looked relieved as he pressed his first two fingers to Dean’s forehead and let his power knit the wounds closed. Dean hadn’t wanted to be healed last time, and it had been eating at Cas ever since.

Gabriel watched Cas and Dean, at how close they were, at how Dean leaned into Cas’ touch ever so slightly. He was glad his brother had someone he was so in sync with, even if it had taken a while for them to realize it.

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to Sam from Cas and Dean, and he found the hunter watching him. He looked away in very un-Archangel-like fashion, but he couldn’t stand it when Sam looked at him like that, like he could see straight through him. It made him feel guilty and exposed, and he wanted nothing more than to make it up to him somehow, but he didn’t make a move to try to heal Sam; he was sure the gesture would be unwelcome, considering the circumstances. Cas healed him instead. And when Cas and Dean went to their room, Gabriel tried to be subtle when he noticed Sam was heading to his room alone.

Nights were his least favorite time in the bunker. It left him alone with his thoughts, and he most definitely did not want to be there. It was worse tonight that Sam was back, and he thought how he should have come back as soon as he had heard that Sam was out of the Cage, when the Leviathan got out, when Metatron closed Heaven, when Cain became a threat again.

Suddenly the bunker was stifling, making Gabriel feel as if he were trapped. He had been wandering through the bunker’s various rooms, but now he made for the door and stepped into the cool night air. He could leave again, right now. It would be so easy, as if he’d never come back.

No, he wouldn’t do that again. He’d been running for far too long.

The next night, after a day of fruitless searching for signs of Crowley and Amara, it was decided that they’d cook outside. Dean was itching to grill hamburgers himself instead of getting them from some diner or gas station or fast food joint. Instead of using a charcoal grill, they built a fire from the wood nearby to cook over. When the food was cooked, they built it up so they had a bonfire going to keep them warm as the temperature turned chilly when the sun disappeared.

Cas and Gabriel didn’t need to eat, but Cas took a burger anyway. Gabriel didn’t take one, but he was a little surprised when Sam did. At his inquiring look, Sam just shrugged.

When dinner was over, they sat and watched the flames, sometimes lost in their own thoughts, sometimes talking about nothing. When talk turned to the Darkness, Gabriel answered their questions with what he could remember, but it had been so long ago that some of the details were fuzzy.

At some point, Dean went inside, and Cas followed him a few minutes later, leaving only Sam and Gabriel.

Gabriel tried not to notice when Sam added more wood to the fire. He planned on being out at least a little while longer. Gabriel watched the flames.

“Why did you come back, Gabriel?” Sam finally asked.

“I told you,” Gabriel said, maybe little too quickly. He knew what Sam was talking about: when Sam had been leading him to the library, Gabriel had taken the hunter’s hand in his and kissed the knuckles. He’d brushed it off, and they hadn’t mentioned it since. They hadn’t even mentioned it when they’d gotten to the library; the subject was too strange to breach.

“You said you’ve been watching me.”

A moment of silence passed in which they both just stared at the flames, waiting for the other to speak first. Gabriel thought back to their conversation, to when he’d told Sam that he’d been watching _him,_ not _them._

“I also said I wanted to help with the Darkness,” Gabriel finally pointed out. “But you haven’t exactly let me help. You’ve been looking for Crowley.”

“He has Amara,” Sam pointed out.

“That shouldn’t matter. You still don’t have a plan of what to do with her if you find her.”

“Getting one of the most powerful forces in the universe away from Crowley is the best start we have right now,” Sam countered.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “And then what?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Sam said, starting to sound exasperated.

Gabriel chuckled. “I never could fool you,” he said.

Sam went still for a moment, staring at the Archangel beside him. “Never fool… That– that _vision,_ or whatever it was, that was _you?_ ”

Gabriel shrugged, staring into the flames again so he could avoid the hunter’s gaze. “It’s easier to get you to listen like that. When you have to think, you pay attention.”

Sam considered this. All those years ago, Gabriel always seemed to try to make them figure out a lesson themselves. He could never be straightforward, except when they forced him to. He seemed lost in his own world at the moment, staring stone-faced into the fire in front of them without blinking. The warm glow on his face made him look like the Archangel he was, made him look dangerous. But when he finally turned to look at Sam, he looked vulnerable.

They hadn’t talked about the day Gabriel first showed up, but now it hung heavily between them.

_When you have to think, you pay attention._ Pay attention…to what? Sam wondered. The Darkness? He and Dean had to defeat it, he understood that. But with the way Gabriel was looking at him, he was sure that wasn’t it.

No, he knew what Gabriel meant. He just hadn’t let himself think of it.

Sam picked up his hand and reached forward, then hesitated and balled it into a fist before relaxing it on his lap.

Gabriel’s eyes were on Sam’s hand, and he reached forward hesitantly. His hand hovered over Sam’s for a moment, until Sam turned his hand over in quiet permission. Gabriel took the hand in both of his and rested his forehead against them, looking like a man in prayer.

Gabriel had never prayed before in his life – hadn’t had a reason to. Now he felt like he was praying for Sam to forgive him.

They sat like that for a minute that might have lasted an hour before Sam finally shifted. He didn’t take his hand back, but shifted so he was closer to Gabriel. He reached out with his free hand and rested it on the Angel’s shoulder.

Gabriel looked up slightly, giving the impression that he was hiding behind their hands. And he was, he knew he was. It was so child-like, but he figured that went along with his habit of running from his problems, and pulling pranks, and eating far too much candy. He supposed he was being selfish like a child too, willing Sam to forgive him when he knew he didn’t deserve it.

But then he felt the hand on his shoulder shift down his back. They were sitting so close beside each other in their chairs that their knees bumped together.

“I’m so sorry,” Gabriel said against their hands. He didn’t specify, but he knew Sam was smart enough to figure it out.

“I know,” Sam replied. “I forgive you,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he did, but he knew he wouldn’t (couldn’t) hold a grudge against the Archangel.

Gabriel felt a weight lift off his shoulders and he ducked his head as he leaned across the space between them and rested his head against Sam’s chest. He heard the words “I forgive you” rumble in Sam’s chest again.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel said again. He felt Sam’s face against his hair. He still had Sam’s hand clutched between his, and Sam wasn’t making a move to take it back.


	5. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel  
> A road trip for Spring Break.  
> November 2015; Prompt: roadtrip

“But it’s _Spring Break,_ ” Dean said. He was sitting on the couch in the living room, his textbook sitting open, forgotten, beside him. “And we’re gonna have to do something exciting, considering it’s our last one.”

“And you want to pile into a car and spend most of the week driving from one place to another?”

“Well shit, when you say it like that, it sounds boring,” Dean pouted. “C’mon Cas, it’ll be fun.”

Cas glanced up from his computer screen, his hands hovering over the keyboard. He was seated at the kitchen table, his half-eaten lunch cooling on the table beside his laptop. “It doesn’t sound very fun.”

“Are you kidding? We’ll drive up the coast. Or to the National Parks. Stop anywhere, see anything.”

Cas considered this for a moment, his head tilted. Dean forced himself not to look away.

“Just us?” Cas asked, brows drawn together curiously.

“What? No,” Dean said, probably too quickly, feeling his face heat up ever so slightly. He would have _liked_ it to just be the two of them, but he wasn’t sure how Cas would take that. He would probably be uncomfortable with the idea and not want to go, since they were just friends. He dropped his gaze. “We could swing by Stanford and pick up my brother. And you said you have a cousin there too, right? We could bring him too, if he wanted to come.”

Cas looked back at his computer screen, frowning slightly. He had hoped Dean would say that he planned the trip to be just the two of them; he wanted to be able to talk to him in private without the pressure of class lingering in the back of his mind. But if Dean didn’t want it to just be the two of them, so be it. Besides, it wouldn’t kill him to spend some time with Gabriel. “Sure,” he finally said. “That could be fun.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome,” he said. “I’ll call Sammy this weekend to see if he wants to go.”

“And I’ll call Gabriel.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Is this really going to be comfortable for a week?” Cas asked suspiciously as they loaded their bags in Dean’s Impala. “Seems pretty cramped.”

“We’ll get out frequently,” Dean promised, slamming the trunk closed.

Cas nodded and yawned. It was still early, the sun only just peeking over the horizon. Despite this, Dean seemed to be entirely awake, despite not having had any coffee that morning. By contrast, Cas was on his second mug and was still half asleep.

“Why are we leaving so early again?” Cas asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Oh, c’mon. It isn’t that early,” Dean said, sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the key in the ignition.

“It is six in the morning,” Cas said grumpily, taking a sip from his coffee mug pointedly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Not my fault you aren’t a morning person, Cas,” he said, his tone light. “Besides, we’ll be at Stanford in time for a real breakfast.”

*~*~*~*~*

Sam stuffed the last of his clothes into his duffel bag and zipped it shut. He really should have finished packing the night before, but he had more important (i.e., interesting) things to do. Not that it mattered, since he didn’t have much that he needed to pack.

A knock sounded at the door as Sam was pulling his shoes on.

“It’s open,” he called.

The door clicked open and Gabriel stood in the doorway, his own duffel slung over his shoulder. “You almost ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah, just a second,” Sam said, going through his mental checklist and glancing around the room to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. When he was sure he had everything, he stood and picked up his bag. “Do you have everything?”

“Right here,” Gabriel said, patting his bag. To anyone else, the motion would have looked normal, but Sam knew him too well for that.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s not that big a deal. They won’t care.”

“I’m not nervous, Sam,” Gabriel said, trying to put on an annoyed face. It didn’t work.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam snorted. He put his arm on the other man’s shoulder, turning him toward the door. “Let’s go wait for them.”

They didn’t need to wait long before Sam saw the Impala pull up. As soon as the car was parked on the curb in front of them, Dean was out and rounding the hood.

“Good to see you, Sammy,” he said, wrapping his brother in a hug.

“Good to see you too, Dean,” Sam said.

Cas had fallen asleep on the drive over, and he was still groggy when he pulled himself to his feet. “Hey Gabriel,” he said, hugging his cousin quickly.

“So you’re Gabriel. I’m Dean,” Dean said, holding a hand out to Gabriel.

“Nice to meet you,” Gabriel said, shaking Dean’s hand with a formality Sam wasn’t sure he’d ever seen from him before.

“Sammy, this is Cas,” Dean said when he pulled his hand back, using it to gesture to his friend. “Cas, Sammy.”

“It’s Sam,” Sam said as he shook Cas’ hand.

“It’s Sammy,” Dean said seriously to Cas.

“Sam,” Sam said pointedly.

When Cas looked between the brothers confusedly, Dean broke into a grin and winked at him. Cas knew it was a joke, but it still set his heart to fluttering.

“Let me get your bags,” Dean said, taking Sam’s from him and holding his hand out for Gabriel’s. He took them to the trunk and asked, “So where’s a good place to get breakfast around here?”

“There’s a café just down the street that’s pretty good,” Sam said. “We go there a lot.”

“Is the coffee any good?” Cas asked. He’d drained his not long after he and Dean had started out.

“It’s great, actually,” Gabriel said. He’d been uncharacteristically quiet, and it was making Sam worried he wouldn’t enjoy himself during the break.

“Then I’m in,” Cas said with a shrug.

“Then get in,” Dean said. “Sam, you’re up front.”

Cas didn’t even have time to feel insulted before Sam said, “No, I think I’ll ride in the back with Gabriel.”

Dean and Gabriel gave Sam matching surprised looks, but Sam didn’t change his stance, instead stepping closer to the Impala’s back door.

“Suit yourself,” Dean said with a shrug, making his way to the driver’s door. When they were all settled in their seats, he looked back at Sam and Gabriel in the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowed appraisingly. “Just keep it G-rated back there,” he said.

Sam rolled his eyes. Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. Cas drew his brows together in confusion and glanced over at Dean, who shrugged and put the car in gear.

The café really wasn’t bad. The coffee was almost _too_ strong for Cas, which was impressive, but the food was delicious, and Dean ate enough for all of them.

“What are you studying again?” Dean asked Gabriel not long after they sat down.

“Medicine,” Gabriel said. “I just started Med School.”

Dean frowned, impressed. “How’d you end up running into Sammy then, since he’s Pre-Law?”

“A party,” Gabriel said with a shrug.

“They invite you to the big boy parties now?” Dean asked, turning to Sam.

“Shut up,” Sam said with a good-natured snort. “I start Law school next semester; it’s not that big a stretch.”

“Whatever gets you through the night,” Dean said, taking another bite of his breakfast.

“Well how’d you two get together?” Sam countered.

Dean almost choked on his breakfast. Cas just glanced up at Sam, curious.

“We’re not together,” Dean said when he regained his composure.

This surprised Gabriel. He and Cas didn’t talk _that_ much, but when they did, Cas usually had something to say about his roommate. And the way they moved together, and the way they were sitting a little too close, made Gabriel think they had to be together. “How’d you meet then?” he asked.

“He put an ad out that he had an extra room to rent out and I didn’t want to live on campus again,” Cas said. “I had to get a job that wasn’t work study, but it’s not bad.”

“You live off campus?” Gabriel asked.

Dean nodded. “I didn’t start college until I was twenty-two, so there was no fuckin’ way I was staying in a dorm with a bunch of eighteen-year-olds,” he explained. “Besides, I worked my ass off so that one”-here he gestured to Sam with his fork-“could go to the school he wanted to go to, and then he got in on a full ride.” Dean’s words were full of feigned annoyance, but his face showed he was proud of his little brother. “I’m not going to Stanford, and I got my own scholarships, so I used the leftover money to get a little house.”

“Wait, how old are you?” Gabriel asked, catching on Dean’s first statement.

“Twenty-six?” Dean said, confused as to why this was important.

Gabriel smirked at him, and Sam was relieved to see a bit of the mischievous glint return to his eye. “No one told me we were bringing a damn chaperone.”

Dean snorted. “I’m a ‘damn chaperone’ now?” he asked. He glanced sidelong at Cas. “Do I need to chaperone your cousin around my brother?”

Cas raised an appraising brow as he studied Gabriel. His gaze slid over to Sam, who was watching with an amused look on his face. “I don’t know,” he said carefully. “Your _brother_ looks like the suspicious one to me.”

“Hey,” Sam said, throwing his straw wrapper across the table at Cas. He was laughing, and the sound seemed to dispel whatever tension remained between them.

“Sam is quite suspicious,” Gabriel said in a mock-serious tone. There was a wicked gleam in his eye.

Sam turned a betrayed look on Gabriel. “I thought I could trust you Gabriel.”

“Sam, since I like you, I will give you the first rule of dealing with Gabriel that I learned when we were still small children,” Cas said, his eyes laughing even as his face was serious and still. “ _Never_ trust him with any incriminating evidence.”

“Incriminating evidence?” Dean asked. “So he knows you had your first beer when you were seventeen and _not_ on your twenty-first birthday?”

Gabriel laughed. “I do _now_ ,” he said.

“Maybe I can’t trust _you_ either,” Cas said to Dean, trying for a suspicious tone but only managing to laugh at the amused look on Dean’s face. Maybe this trip would turn out to be more fun than he’d originally thought.

*~*~*~*~*

The first couple of nights they stopped at motels after full days of driving and exploring.

On their third night, they pitched tents in Yosemite National Park.

“I can’t believe you kept these,” Sam said for about the seventh time, surveying their handiwork as he sat in front of one of them. There were two tents, and they planned on having the Winchesters in one and the Novaks in the other, as they had with the motel rooms the first couple of nights.

“Fuck yeah I kept them,” Dean said. His answer had changed every time Sam had made the comment while they were setting the tents up.

“You don’t strike me as the camping type,” Gabriel commented, moving to stand behind Sam.

“Our dad took us a lot when we were kids,” Dean said, pushing himself to his feet. “We haven’t been since I was, like, eleven.”

“But you kept the tents,” Cas said from where he was sitting against the Impala, fishing around in the cooler for something to drink.

“Yeah, well, call me sentimental,” Dean said, walking over to the car and taking a seat next to Cas, pulling a beer from the cooler.

The sun had just slid below the horizon. They had cooked dinner over a fire, and Sam threw more wood on it so it would flare up again. After some coaxing, flames were once again dancing over the logs.

“Who’s got a good ghost story?” Gabriel asked when they were all seated around the fire.

“No thanks,” Cas said.

“You don’t like ghost stories?” Sam asked.

“Not particularly,” Cas replied with a shrug, “and certainly not when we’re seated around a fire in the woods.”

“Afraid we’re gonna end up in some kinda horror movie?” Dean asked teasingly, nudging Cas with his elbow.

Cas shrugged again. “I think I’ll go take a walk,” he said, moving to stand.

“Yeah, that doesn’t scream ‘horror movie’ at all,” Dean said, sarcasm coloring his words.

“Enjoy your ghost stories,” Cas said over his shoulder as he started walking.

The other three watched Cas’ back retreat for a moment before Gabriel turned back to Dean. “You’re just going to let him leave by himself, asshole?”

“Nah, I’m going,” Dean said, draining the rest of his beer and pulling himself to his feet.

“Ow, hey,” Gabriel said, feeling Dean’s finger thump the back of his head as the older man walked behind him. He shot a glare after Dean, but Dean didn’t turn around to notice.

“Your brother’s an ass,” Gabriel said matter-of-factly to Sam when Dean was out of earshot.

“Yeah, but he’s alright,” Sam said, a smile creeping across his face. He looked across the flames at Gabriel, the flames dancing in the other man’s eyes.

A thick silence descended on them for a moment, until Gabriel broke it. “I’ve missed you, Sam.”

Sam didn’t have to ask what he meant. The closest they’d been the entire break was sharing the backseat whenever they drive anywhere. Usually, at Stanford, they were alone together far more frequently. Sam stood and moved to the other side of the fire, taking a seat beside Gabriel, sitting so close their thighs touched.

Gabriel leaned into the presence beside him, as he always did, and rested his head on Sam’s shoulder as Sam’s arms encircled him. He closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.

“I’ve missed you too,” Sam said, his voice husky as he momentarily tightened his grip on Gabriel.

Gabriel chuckled against Sam, turning his head to press a kiss to Sam’s neck, just below his ear.

“Well that isn’t fair,” Sam said quietly, half to himself, as his eyes fluttered shut. He then took Gabriel’s face in one of his hands and shifted – maybe a little roughly – so he could angle his head in such a way as to catch Gabriel’s mouth against his.

Sam felt Gabriel shift beside him, moving to wrap his arms around Sam’s shoulders and pressing closer. Sam sighed happily, sliding his lips from Gabriel’s mouth to his jaw to his neck. He felt Gabriel chuckle under his mouth, felt hands tugging at his hair.

They were together like that for a while, until the fire had died down enough to let the chill of night cut through them.

“It’s getting cold out here,” Sam whispered against Gabriel’s lips.

Gabriel grinned against Sam. “I’m not cold.”

Sam snorted, resting his forehead against Gabriel’s, opening his eyes so he could look into Gabriel’s. Of course Gabriel wasn’t cold; he was wrapped in Sam’s arms, close to his chest. “Well, I’m cold.”

Gabriel’s grin widened, and Sam noticed a wicked glint in his eyes. Gabriel disentangled himself from Sam, feeling a chilled breeze cut through him at the sudden absence of Sam’s warmth. He went to get their bags from the Impala. “Then let’s get out of the cold,” he said, holding the bags up for a second before walking over to the tents.

Sam watched as Gabriel tossed both of their bags into the same tent. He stood carefully, his eyes on Gabriel as he walked to the tent. Gabriel was watching him with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. When they were close enough, Sam took Gabriel’s face in his hands and leaned down to kiss the smirk off Gabriel’s face.

“I thought you were cold,” Gabriel breathed when there was enough of a break for him to get his words out.

“You’re in the way,” Sam joked, slinking around Gabriel and pulling him into the tent behind him.

*~*~*~*~*

“Wait up,” Dean said, catching sight of Cas ahead of him.

Cas glanced over his shoulder and slowed his pace. “Not afraid of being involved in a horror movie?” he asked.

Dean barked a laugh. “Depends on whether I’m the guy who bites it or not.”

“What if I was the guy who ‘bites it’?” Cas asked, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye as he picked his way across the trail.

“You wouldn’t be,” Dean said, a protective edge in his voice. When he noticed how Cas was looking at him, he quickly added, “They never get rid of characters like you. You’d be the hero. I’d be the asshole they killed off.”

“Not a chance,” Cas said, conviction coming through clearly in his words. He kept his eyes downcast even as he felt Dean staring at him, trying to catch his eye.

They walked in silence for a while, picking their way carefully in the darkness. Cas stumbled once, leaning heavily on Dean for a moment to regain his balance. Dean didn’t mind, and he had to catch himself before he kept his arm where it had landed on Cas’ arm.

After about ten minutes of wandering, they found themselves at a clearing. After the density of the trees on the trail, the clear meadow came as a surprise, since they hadn’t seen the clearing as they were approaching it, only after they stepped out into it.

Dean looked up at the sky and his breath caught; he didn’t think he’d seen so many stars since his father had last taken him camping when he was a child. The stars and the moon gave off enough light that he could see the other edge of the meadow clearly, just a hundred yards ahead of him.

“Wow,” Cas breathed. Dean looked over at him to see an awed expression on his face.

Dean smiled at him. “It’s something, isn’t it?” he said.

Cas just nodded, and after a moment Dean realized he was still looking at Cas and looked away. He tried to look around at the view around him, but he found it hard to keep his gaze from Cas’ face.

“Do you want to sit down?” Dean said after another moment passed in semi-awkward silence.

“What?” Cas asked, tearing his gaze away from the sky.

Dean gestured to a tree that had fallen a few feet from them at the edge of the clearing. At Cas’ nod, they walked over to it and sat, finding the trunk to not be entirely uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the log wasn’t particularly long, and the two were forced to sit closer than was entirely platonic. Dean noticed Cas shift as if to get further away, and asked, “Would you prefer if I sat on the ground?”

“What? No,” Cas said, looking up at Dean and quickly looking away again.

“Well, there’s something bothering you,” Dean said, concerned.

Cas shifted again, and Dean was about to tell him to forget about it, that he didn’t need to say anything if he was that uncomfortable, when he said, “I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, you know – in private – for a while, but now I don’t know where to start.”

Dean felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach, 100% sure he had done something wrong at some point on the trip. He tried to think of something he might have done, but he couldn’t think of anything that Cas might have taken offense to.

“Look, Cas, if I did something you didn’t like, I’m sorry,” Dean said.

“Something I…” Cas glanced up at Dean, his gaze steady. Then he laughed, though he didn’t mean to. “No, Dean, you haven’t done something wrong. Quite the opposite.”

“Oh,” Dean said, almost more confused now than he had been a moment ago. “Then what is it?”

“I like you,” Cas said, before he could think better of it.

Dean’s brow knit in confusion. “Yeah, I like you too, Cas. What’s that got to do with what you want to talk to me about?”

“No,” Cas said, his cheeks heating up. He was glad it was dark. “I mean I _like_ like you.”

For half a second Dean debated making a comment somewhere along the lines of ‘what are you, five?’ before he realized that would probably start an argument he didn’t want to have. “Oh,” he said instead. He felt a blush color his cheeks and looked away. He shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, uh…”

“I, um, I don’t mind if you don’t…feel the same,” Cas said awkwardly, “but I-I just thought that you, you know, should _know_ , since we live together.”

“No, I’m glad you told me,” Dean said, staring at the ground between his feet. His heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. “It’s just…” He trailed off, leaving a thick silence after his words that Cas didn’t seem inclined to fill. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. “The thing is, um… I, uh, feel, you know, the same way?” he said cautiously, his eyes still trained on the ground.

The silence was so thick that Dean probably could have cut it with his pocket-knife.

“How…how long?” Cas asked hesitantly. He glanced up at Dean’s downcast face.

“Fuck if I know,” Dean said with a shrug. He wasn’t inclined to ask the same.

The conversation died off again, neither able to think of something to fill it with.

“So… What now?” Cas asked when the silence had stretched long enough.

“Leave it,” Dean said, “for now.”

Cas nodded, yawning.

“Let’s get back,” Dean said. “It’s getting late.” He stood and offered to help Cas, who declined.

The walk back was quiet, each of them lost in his own thoughts.

When they returned to the campsite, they found the fire burned out and only one tent still unzipped.

“Maybe I _did_ need to chaperone your cousin,” Dean whispered, trying for lighthearted.

Cas chuckled. “You’ll never convince me it wasn’t your brother who instigated that,” he shot back.

They grabbed their bags from the Impala, but hesitated at the entrance to the tent.

“I can sleep in the car, if it’ll make you feel better,” Dean said quietly.

Cas almost considered letting him stay in the car. Almost. “No, you can stay,” he said, stepping into the tent and putting his duffel and sleeping bag against one of the sides. Dean zipped the tent flap shut behind him, setting his things opposite Cas.

It took a long time for either of their minds to calm enough to sleep.

The next morning, none of them mentioned the new sleeping arrangements, and after a mildly tense morning of packing up, the mood lightened over breakfast at a nearby diner.

The rest of the trip went smoothly, for the most part. The first night after the one at Yosemite was stressful, with the motel rooms being split with Sam and Gabriel in one, and Dean and Cas in the other. But as the week wore on, the arrangement became natural.

*~*~*~*~*

“Thanks for inviting us,” Gabriel said. He and Sam were standing on the curb, back at Stanford. Sam had his arm draped across Gabriel’s shoulders.

“Any time,” Dean said, “but next time, someone else is driving.”

“Deal,” Cas said, a small smile playing on his face.

“No deal,” Sam said, fighting to keep his face serious. “Dean is the worst backseat driver you’ve ever met in your life.”

“I am not.”

“I picked you up to go home for the weekend _once_ , _three years ago,_ and I considered sedating you to make you shut up,” Sam countered.

Cas and Gabriel gave Dean curious looks, making Dean shift slightly. “It’s not my fault Sammy’s a crazy driver.”

“I am not.”

“You’re both children,” Cas concluded.

“He started it,” Dean said, adopting his best whiny-child voice and pointing at Sam.

“I’m glad you get to deal with _him_ ,” Gabriel said to Cas.

Sam couldn’t keep up his serious façade any longer, and broke down laughing. The rest quickly followed suit.

“Alright, alright,” Dean said, pulling himself together. “Cas and I have to get going.” He hugged Sam and said, “You take care of yourself.”

“Yeah, you too,” Sam replied.

Then Dean shook Gabriel’s hand. “Do I need to tell you to be good to him?”

“Do I need to tell you the same about my cousin?” Gabriel countered.

Dean broke into a smile. “Deal,” he said.

Gabriel freed his hand and hugged his cousin, telling him to take care. “I’ll be in touch,” he promised.

*~*~*~*~*

“We should do that again sometime,” Cas said as they pulled into the driveway at the house. The drive home had been comfortably silent.

“How about next time, it’s just the two of us,” Dean suggested.

Cas looked over at the man in the seat beside him and was surprised to see Dean looking back at him, instead of staring into the space ahead of himself, as Cas had learned he did when he said something he was afraid to say. “Yes, I think I’d like that.”

Dean smiled and leaned forward slightly, making Cas’ heart jump in his chest. “I want to kiss you,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

Cas could tell it had taken quite a bit of willpower for Dean to say it, because Dean’s pulse was pounding in his throat so hard that Cas could see the beat. Cas took a steadying breath. “I would like that,” he said, leaning toward Dean, his heart speeding up.

Dean closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Cas’ gently, as if he still wasn’t sure of himself.

As far as Cas was concerned, Dean pulled back too soon, but he wasn’t going to press the issue.

*~*~*~*~*

The next semester, Sam and Gabriel started living together on campus. It was only temporary, because the following semester they would have an apartment nearby to share.

Two weeks after the trip, Cas moved into Dean’s room. After they graduated, they stayed in the same house, Dean working, Cas staying in school to work on his Master’s.

Sometimes Sam and Gabriel made the trip for holidays. Sometimes Dean and Cas made the trip.


	6. December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Cas  
> What to do over Winter Break.  
> Pinch-hit for December 2015; Prompt: wrapping paper

Cas could swear they were trying to wrap the campus up and stick it under a tree; there was wrapping paper over the corkboards in the halls, and bows tied around the handrails.

He wasn’t really surprised though; ever since everyone had come back from Fall Break, they’d all been going on and on about what they were doing for Christmas.

The only place he had a break from the onslaught of festivities was in his dorm room. Sure, he had a roommate, but there wasn’t much decorating going on in the room (aside from a tiny tree set up on the corner of Dean’s desk), and Dean was quite capable of having discussions that didn’t revolve around the holiday.

“So what are you going to do over the break?” Dean asked. They were sitting in their room, each of them at their own desk studying and working on last minute assignments before finals in two weeks.

Cas shrugged, glancing up from his laptop for a moment. “I might catch up on reading. And I have assignments to do for honors before next semester.”

Dean scrunched his face up in disgust. “That sucks dude,” he said.

“It’s not so bad,” Cas said, turning back to the essay he was typing. “It’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

A few minutes passed in silence, the only sounds coming from the tapping of keys as they worked on final assignments.

“Are you doing anything for New Year’s?” Dean asked.

“Probably not,” Cas said, his hands pausing over his keyboard when he looked up at Dean. “I might have to keep the cat in my room though. He’s not a fan of fireworks.”

“So you don’t watch the ball drop?” Dean asked.

“I do. If I stay awake,” Cas replied. “Sometimes I’d rather go to sleep.” He tilted his head curiously. “Do you watch it?”

“Yeah, usually,” Dean said. “My mom likes to have a New Year’s Eve party every year, so there are a lot of people around. It’s kinda hard to get to sleep like that.”

“Sounds like fun,” Cas said.

“It is,” Dean said. “I’d invite you, but you live two hours away from us.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Cas said, smiling slightly. “Maybe another year.”

Dean’s brow furrowed curiously. “You’d drive two hours for a New Year’s Party?” he asked. “You don’t seem like a party guy.”

“I’m not,” Cas confirmed, tilting his head in a shrug. “But it sounds fun. And you’d be there, so I can’t imagine it would be a problem.”

Dean ducked his head, embarrassed. “I don’t know about that,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Cas’ smile widened for a moment before he went back to his essay. He heard Dean’s keys start tapping a few minutes later.

*~*~*~*~*

December 6th was the first night of Hanukkah. Cas had been told he wasn’t allowed to light candles, no exceptions. He figured it would be just his luck that something important would catch on fire if he lit them anyway, so he found the electric Menorah he’d brought back with him after fall break and set it on the windowsill.

Dean walked in just as Cas was tightening the first light bulb, making it light up and flicker like a candle.

Cas glanced up when he heard the door open, and his mouth quirked into a smile. “Hello Dean,” he said. “Good evening.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean said. “Happy Hanukkah.”

“Thank you,” Cas said. He sat back on his bed and pulled a textbook from his desk onto his lap, flipping it open to one of the last chapters.

Dean was rummaging around under his bed, moving his suitcase and assorted clutter out of the way. There were several small, colorfully wrapped boxes, but none were what he was looking for.

Cas glanced up after a moment, a crease in his brow. “Lose something?” he asked, starting to stand so he could offer his assistance.

“Nope,” Dean said, finally retrieving what he was looking for. He stood, brushing dust from his jeans. He turned and glanced up at Cas, looking almost shy as he held the gift out.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Cas said, surprised to see it.

Dean shrugged. “I got all my friends Christmas presents. Didn’t seem right to not get you anything,” he said, patiently holding the present out to Cas.

Cas took the gift, sitting heavily on his bed as he turned it over in his hands. The paper was a simple dark blue. It was a stark (but not unwelcome) contrast to the garish red and green designs on the other packages Cas had seen Dean wrapping. “CAS” was written in a neat hand on one corner.

“Is something wrong?” Dean asked. He sat on his bed facing his friend.

“What? No, nothing’s wrong,” Cas said, glancing up at Dean. Cas hadn’t opened the present yet, and he had a feeling that it was making Dean nervous that he wouldn’t want it. “I just didn’t expect anything, that’s all.”

“Well, open it then,” Dean said, a shy smile on his face.

Cas carefully tore at the paper, revealing a novel within. Cas tilted his head curiously as the paper came away, and smiled when he saw the title. “I’ve wanted to read this one,” he said, glancing back at Dean with a warm smile. “Thank you Dean.”

“You’re welcome,” Dean said, his smile spreading until it lit up his entire face. “But there’s more.”

“More?” Cas asked.

Dean nodded. “Open the book.”

Cas flipped the cover open and turned a few pages. He found an envelope tucked just in front of the first chapter. He set the book aside and pulled the lip of the envelope open, glancing up at Dean with a quizzical look. There was a card inside with “You’re Invited!” printed on its cover. Cas furrowed his brow and opened the card, finding the information for the New Year’s Party Dean had mentioned his mom held every year.

“I talked to my mom,” Dean said before Cas could react. “I know it’s a long drive, but I don’t mind picking you up from your house, and you can come to the party, and then you can stay at my house, you know, if you want, since we have to be back here on the third anyway.” Dean’s words came out in a rush, as if he were afraid of saying them. It sounded like he’d rehearsed them. “I thought it’d be better, you know, than some other year. And I just…wanted you to be there,” he added. His words trailed off toward the end and his cheeks turned pink.

Cas looked up at Dean, a smile lighting his face. “Thank you,” he said. “I’d like to go.”

Dean’s face brightened again. “Really?” he asked.

Cas nodded. “I’ll talk to my parents, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” he said.

“Great!”

Cas smiled and pushed himself to his feet. “I have something for you too,” he said, walking over to his closet.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Dean said, craning his neck, trying to see what Cas was grabbing at.

“I know,” Cas said, moving things aside on the shelf above the clothes rack. He found what he was looking for tucked away underneath a couple of his sweaters. “Here.” Cas turned and held out a large thin square, wrapped in dark red paper.

Dean took it carefully. He had thought it would be flimsy, but it seemed fairly stiff. He turned it over a few times, trying to discern what it might be. He didn’t notice anything in particular, aside from his name written in Cas’ scrawling handwriting.

“That’s your Christmas present,” Cas said as he settled back onto his bed. “So you can’t open it until Christmas.”

Dean sighed. “I guess I can wait,” he said with a smirk.

“You’ll have to let me know if you like it,” Cas said, opening his textbook again.

“I will,” Dean said, carefully setting the gift on the other ones under his bed.

*~*~*~*~*

Cas woke up to his phone ringing. He groaned and looked over at his clock. It was eight o’clock, so it really wasn’t _too_ early, compared to how early he’d gotten up at school. He unlocked and answered his phone without really registering the name of the caller. “Hello?” he asked groggily.

“Cas!” The voice at the other end of the line sounded excited. “Hey, sorry, I know it’s early but I couldn’t wait to call,” the voice said. Cas rubbed at his eyes and sat up when he recognized it was Dean’s voice.

“Dean,” Cas said, his voice still thick with sleep. “Merry Christmas,” he added, remembering the date.

“Thanks,” Dean said. There was music in the background. “Cas! Where did you find that record?”

“I saw it at a yard sale, over fall break,” Cas said, running a hand through his hair. “You said your copy was scratched, so I got it and played it on my mom’s phonograph to make sure it was okay. Does it still sound okay?”

“ _Okay?_ It sounds fantastic! I love it, thank you,” Dean said. “It’s playing right now. My dad got his record player out as soon as I unwrapped it.”

Cas smiled, though he knew Dean couldn’t see him. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s great. We should play it when you’re here,” Dean said. He still sounded excited.

“That’d be great,” Cas said, trying and failing to hide a yawn.

“You sound tired,” Dean said, his voice a mix of guilty and affectionate. “Sorry I called so early. I’ll let you go.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas said, a lazy smile on his lips. “Are you still coming to get me on the thirty-first?”

“You haven’t gotten a better offer, have you?” Dean teased.

Cas chuckled into the receiver. “No, not yet.”

“Then I will see you on the thirty-first,” Dean said. His smile was plainly obvious in his voice.

“See you then,” Cas said. There was a click on the other end, and Cas set his phone back on his bedside table. He was asleep again as soon as his head hit the pillow, a smile still on his lips.

*~*~*~*~*

The party was only about half as awkward as Cas had thought it might be. Dean’s parents were nice people, and his little (i.e., younger) brother Sam was great to talk to, though he disappeared at some point to talk with his own friends. The house was crowded, but everyone was friendly, and there was more than enough food for everyone. As promised, Dean had the record Cas had gotten him playing almost as soon as they walked in.

Cas ended up on the couch, squished between the armrest on his right and Dean on his left. He didn’t mind. He was close to the hearth, and the crackling of the fire was a soothing undercurrent to the cacophony of sound around him. The Winchesters’ Christmas decorations were still up, and the pine scent from the tree was not unpleasant.

As midnight approached, someone turned the TV on, showing a shot of Times Square, packed with people. Someone accidentally bumped Cas’ arm as they sat on the armrest of the couch. Cas could smell beer on them.

“How about we go out on the porch?” Dean suggested, leaning close so Cas could hear him.

Cas nodded; it was two minutes to midnight, and more people were crowding into the living room, making him feel claustrophobic.

The chill and the prospect of seeing the ball drop had driven everyone inside, so Dean and Cas were the only two on the back porch.

“You aren’t cold, are you?” Dean asked, a look of concern on his face.

“No, I’m okay,” Cas said. His jacket kept him warm enough, but he used the chill as an excuse to move a little closer to Dean.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the noise inside as everyone started to count down to the New Year.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean asked quietly.

Cas glanced over at him. “Yes Dean?” he asked.

Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other apprehensively. “You know, there’s, um… For luck, in the New Year… People, you know-”

“Dean,” Cas interrupted. His heart started beating harder, though he didn’t know if it was because he was nervous or because he was excited. Probably both.

Dean glanced up at him, his cheeks pink, even in the dim lighting from inside the house. “Yeah?” he asked nervously.

“Are you asking me to give you a New Year’s kiss?”

Dean looked away and shifted his weight again. He nodded awkwardly, his face burning.

Cas chuckled, feeling his mouth stretch into a smile. “Dean,” he said softly.

Dean looked up at him again, his face so full of hope that Cas felt his heart hitch. “Yeah Cas?” Dean asked, his voice just as quiet as his gaze flicked between Cas’ eyes and lips.

“I would love to,” Cas said, leaning forward. His heart was beating harder now, but he didn’t have time to think about that because in the next moment, Dean’s lips were against his, warm and soft in the chilly night. There were cries of “Happy New Year!” inside, but Cas didn’t care. Dean’s mouth was moving against his, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from reciprocating.

Dean pulled back after a moment, too soon. Their foreheads were resting together, and Cas opened his eyes to find Dean’s staring back at him. “Happy New Year, Cas,” Dean said.

Cas smiled. “Happy New Year, Dean,” he said, and pressed his lips to Dean’s again.


	7. Loneliness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean/Cas? Certainly some pining going on over here.  
> Between season 5 and season 6.  
> January 2016; Prompt: loneliness

Being alone wasn’t a new concept to Angels. Often, they would be alone for long stretches of time, off on assignments on an “I’d-tell-you-but-then-I’d-have-to-kill-you” basis.

Castiel had been on several assignments before, and had even spent long stretches of time just wandering around Heaven, keeping tabs on the souls there and not interacting with anyone for periods of time he didn’t even bother measuring.

However, something had changed in the last couple of years. Suddenly, being alone felt…different.

After the Apocalypse ended, Dean had gone back to Lisa Braeden, as he had promised Sam he would. Cas went back to Heaven, intent on fixing the mess that was sure to have been left by Michael’s disappearance.

The deliberations he had with the other Angels didn’t always go as well as he’d hoped. Raphael was impossible to reason with, and his followers were growing in number by the day.

Cas did a lot of thinking in the few moments he could spare. He tried to think of strategy, of a way to gain support against Raphael, but strategy proved to be furthest from what he wanted to think about. Instead, he found his thoughts wandering to the Winchesters. In his entire life, Castiel couldn’t remember a single time he _wanted_ anything. He’d been programmed to be a soldier, a warrior, and that was what he was going to be.

Until Dean Winchester.

Dean Winchester had made him see more than his programming, had made him see that he could defy the grand plan. And Sam. If Sam Winchester could overcome an addiction to _demon blood_ , Cas believed he could make an attempt to defy what he had been designed to do.

The thought of the Winchesters crept into Cas’ mind more and more frequently as the days and weeks dragged on, and it became harder for him to ignore. He didn’t think Sam had spared any thought for him since returning from Hell. Cas hadn’t been able to retrieve the young man’s soul, and he felt guilty about that every time he remembered Sam, but going back to the Cage to try to retrieve the soul would likely kill him; it had been hard enough to get Sam’s body out without letting Michael and Lucifer escape through the crack. But Cas tried to keep an eye on Sam as often as he could, to keep him from getting into too much trouble.

Then there was Dean. It seemed half of Cas’ thoughts were occupied by the older Winchester.

It wasn’t long after the Apocalypse had been averted that Cas finally couldn’t deal with the pressure in his mind.

Since Dean was still warded, Cas wouldn’t have been able to easily find him under normal circumstances. There were other ways to find a person, of course, but the one that tugged at him was _longing_. He could feel how much Dean wanted to be with him, and it pained him to know Dean was unhappy.

The first time Cas found Dean, the latter was in the garage behind a cozy house. It was a cool autumn day, and Dean was working on the Impala with a look of concentration on his face, a sheet folded over the car’s roof.

Cas watched Dean, wanting to reveal himself and offer his help, but he couldn’t think of a reason Dean might need him. Instead, he watched Dean work, offering his silent support, even if he couldn’t bring himself to make his presence known.

Despite the far more pressing matters in Heaven, Cas checked on Dean as often as he could, worried that something was wrong; Dean’s longing never waned, though his situation never seemed to deteriorate, at least as far as Cas could see.

It was on his third or fourth visit that Cas thought he could identify what he’d been feeling since he’d left Dean after the Apocalypse those short weeks before. He realized that he felt a certain longing for Dean, not unlike the feeling that kept drawing him to Dean.

He came close to revealing himself to Dean on more than one occasion, but Angel Radio always reared its ugly head with bad news before he could muster the courage to let down his concealment.

On his trips back to Heaven, he came to realize why being alone had suddenly become an issue for him. For the first time in all the millennia he’d been soldiering for Heaven, being alone seemed like a burden, like something keeping him away from those he wanted to be around. For the first time in his life, Castiel actually _felt_ like he was alone.

He wanted to talk to Dean. He wanted to tell Dean that he missed him, that he didn’t like being without him. He wanted to tell Dean that he’d learned what it meant to be lonely, and that he wanted to help Dean, if Dean felt it too; he was sure Dean was lonely - that was the only explanation that made sense now.

It was a cool autumn day. Dean was in the yard, raking leaves in his usual Winchester layers. Cas watched him for a moment, unsure if he wanted to disturb the tenuous peace Dean had found in the suburbs. He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he released it slowly. Dean’s longing hadn’t faded, and indeed continued to call out to Cas, even now.

“Ah, Castiel,” a voice said from behind him; a voice with a distinctive accent. “Angel of Thursday. Just not your day, is it?”

Cas stole glances at Dean while Crowley talked. He knew now that he wouldn’t tell Dean how he missed him, or how he understood how a person could feel lonely; at least not now. Maybe some other day, in another time, when there wasn’t a civil war in Heaven. Or when Cas felt he could tell Dean that Sam was safe. Or even after many years had passed, and Dean had well and truly left the life. Then Castiel would be able to tell him that he finally understood what it meant to be human.


End file.
